


Flung Out Of Space

by saturmime



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Drabble, F/F, Unfinished, never to be finished hah aahaa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-08 07:56:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5489525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturmime/pseuds/saturmime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>check it out what a throwback (im literally mcfreaking cringing over how terrible this is_</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Aliens do not exist.** At least, she didn’t believe so. After all, what was the sense in, if one just so happened to be an alien anyways, hovering outside the realm of human discovery without the remote desire to show yourself? But then, of course, she assumed aliens would not be so attracted by the affairs of human life, and the wars, and the politics; content in watching it all from a comfortable distance, unbothered and unaffected, enjoying the turmoil of the world like a recluse enjoying a soap opera on television. If they existed, of course. Surely that would be their chosen course.

Therese Belivet? An alien. Never before, no, why would she ever contemplate their existence like a daydreaming child? It just wasn’t _practical._ But Therese…

Therese turned a little switch at the very back of the recesses of her mind, the kind of switch kept well concealed by shrouds of sophistication and maturity and expensive perfume, and sent everything completely and utterly haywire. Because even at first glance, across a room flocked with bustling shoppers and cheery employees donned with their signature Christmas hats, she radiated something ethereal to Carol, and she started to think that maybe aliens _could_.

She tried to hold it off, at first. Refuse herself the naive pleasure she used to derive from the admiration of other women. It just wasn’t something she needed, not at _that_ time, no matter how much she was drawn to the young girl confined to her desk space and oppressive facade of festivity.

Even so, why-- _how_ could Carol just ignore the fact that suddenly, this otherworldly creature of a whole new caliber, a whole new species, had been dropped at her feet all shiny and new and tied up with a bow? Yes, Therese was definitely special, and definitely not something to be caught in a wandering glance, before having your nose turned up at and back turned to. And while that seemed to be just what everyone else did, milling around that crowded department store like nervous ants, it was surely due to the unfortunate fact that no one happened to look her way.

She was a space cadet from the first meeting, eyes wide and all-observing as if permanently caught by surprise, and her mouth turned up into a small, painted smile that made her look for all the world like she was constantly contemplating the antics of her own imagination. All together, she seemed very odd, very anomalistic, like something off of a different planet completely, clutching her tiny clipboard in both hands as if sent here to gather information on the bumbling, gruesome existence of the human race.

No, she was definitely not normal by any standards.

Anyways, Carol had started to notice herself becoming steadily determined to get another meeting from this strange girl--if only to find out what it was that had landed her on this planet, of all places. Even during--and what people never seemed to comprehend she had done--her valiant effort to keep blossoming interest, or rather, _enthrallment_ , in check in the two solid minutes they spent in each other’s presence. She didn’t quite make it, of course.

But she didn’t make the conscious decision to leave her gloves behind, to wedge in a reason for their paths to cross once more, either. No, that would definitely be desperate, and childish, and not generally something someone of _any_ ounce of dignity would attempt, whether eager for the discovery of extraterrestrial life, or not.

Even if she would be a liar to say it hadn’t crossed her mind, at least once.


	2. what?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh my god ok so wild story i was procrastinating my midterm and was looking through some of the untitled documents that make up like 97 percent of my google drive and i found this and i actually remember it now -  
> like a few days after this was published and i think we were all still writhing in ecstasy over Carol finally leaking online i was still getting stuff out and i got out quite a bit apparently, (mostly mismatched sentences and not even finished at all) but then totally forgot about it! 
> 
> keep in mind i wrote this last december and it is likely atrocious and i dont even want to proofread it but i found it so hilarious that i totally forgot about its existence that im totally, on whim, just going to publish it as a chapter two

How long did it take? A week, two, before she started forgetting more and more of what she was doing, clearing a headspace, throwing out the unwanted detritus of her fragmented control over life. It might have been a bit a bit selfish, casting aside the thoughts of things that actually mattered, of Rindy, the sliver of hope that she might just get her back. And of what Abby had said, back in the dimly-lit booth of some bar she can’t even remember the name of, smoke curling around her words and cushioning their impact no matter how hard-falling they were originally meant to be.

 

She’d might as well have been drunk at the time, because they slid right through her realm of understanding like rain through a steel grating, not remembered until days later as rust began to form around the edges of her mind.

 

Does she have any idea what she’s doing? Hell no. But why should she? After all, when was the last time anyone around her seemed to have a grasp on what they were doing? It had either been too long for her to remember, or she had been too busy focusing on other things.

 

Maybe she was concentrating too hard on whatever the hell she was doing all the time to realize that no one else had a clue about themselves, either. 

 

Wasn't that the truth, humans… A bunch of blind animals with the airs of people who give fucks about what they do, who they effect...when in reality nothing ever matters. They hurt...they hurt themselves...with the delusional expectation of some good coming out of it all. Selfish bastards.

 

She wondered if Therese knew what she was doing.

 

It didn't seem that way, weirdly enough. At times it only seemed as if she danced around a pinnacle, hovering on the edges of human understanding, starry-eyed and head whirling with a youthful fantasy. She was a dreamer, a space child, a little, faintly twinkling star of her own. And there seemed to be no way she had a clue as to what she was doing--hurtled down to earth and left to prance around curiously like a newborn deer.

 

In a way, she envied Therese, and her innocence. Even as she seemed to constantly exist on a different plane than everyone else. Or perhaps that was the entire reason.

 

She said that she was trying to be more interested in people.

 

She wished she would be more interested in her. Was she?

 

The was definitely a certain urgency in her voice when Therese asked where Carol was going: that much left nothing to be considered. Her face fell, even more than it had already, as if she imagined this to be the end. She certainly had no idea that this could hardly be the beginning.

 

It was wrong of Carol to drag her along when she left. Someone who barely knew her, or half of what she was like. Someone who had her own life, own prospects, whether or not she was terribly fond of either one. It didn't seem like the right thing. 

 

But at the same time it couldn't be more perfect. The timing could admittedly have been just a bit more convenient, but it had to say something that at the same time Therese seemed to begin having her doubts about the direction she was heading was the same time that she made the decision to get away. And the two of them, escaping their respectable problems in the road trip of the century seemed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thats all there was like i literally didnt even finish my sentence

**Author's Note:**

> harold theyre lesbians


End file.
